Alienation by Doug Floyd

Those Who Dwell In Silence by Ryo,

Sitting in a classroom in second grade, I looked around at the faces of other

students, heard a faint sound of the teacher’s voice echoing in my ear, and
wondered if I might be from another planet. Everyone and everything in the
room seemed alien, foreign, strange. Somewhere I would feel at home and
connected, but in this strange place, I felt like an observer, watching and perhaps
collecting information for my home planet. A few minutes passed and the
moodiness passed as well. I joined all the other children running across the
playground during recess.

This sense of being outside, being cut off, being alienated from the world around
me is a common feeling among many people. In fact, some people never feel
connected and always feel outside, strange, faraway, alienated.

As Paul writes to the Colossians, he reminds them that they were once “alienated
and hostile in mind” but Jesus has reconciled them “in his body of flesh by his
death.” Recently, as I slowly ruminated through the opening words of Colossians,
I was struck how this emphasis on alienation contrasted with the preceding
doxology on the glory of the cosmic Christ.

Paul writes,

“He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation. For by him all
things were created, in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether
thrones or dominions or rulers or authorities—all things were created through
him and for him. And he is before all things, and in him all things hold together.
And he is the head of the body, the church. He is the beginning, the firstborn
from the dead, that in everything he might be preeminent. For in him all the
fullness of God was pleased to dwell, and through him to reconcile to himself all
things, whether on earth or in heaven, making peace by the blood of his cross.”
(Col 1:15-20)

Paul’s praises of Jesus soar as he proclaims the preeminence of Jesus over all
creation. Using language that reminds us of John 1, Paul speaks of Jesus as
Creator (all things were created by him, through him and for him) and as
Sustainer (in him all things hold together), and as Restorer (through him all
things have been reconciled).

From the heights of singing the glory of Jesus as the “image of the invisible God,”
Paul descends to address the Colossians as a people who were “alienated, hostile
in mind, and doing evil deeds.” Listening to these words, I heard the cold,
shuddering wind of “alienation” chill me with icy dread.
The very word “alienation” carries the sounds of separation and forsakenness.

Alienation also sounds so very modern. I hear echoes of Paul Simon singing, “I
am a rock, I am island.” This little 60s pop song responds to John Donne’s
contention that “no man is an island” by expressing the angst of a person who no
longer feels connected to the whole, to the continent, to the human race. That
sense of being disconnected, being an outsider, being cut-off shows up in our
movies, our music, and in our heroes who ride off into the sunset instead of living
in community.

Alienation is not only the feel of being aloof or cutoff from the group, it can also
be the very real act of a group seeking to alienate other people or groups. The
most obvious act in the last 100 years is Hitler’s attempt to dehumanize the
Jewish people, alienating them from the German race and attempting to alienate
them from the planet through planned extermination. He sought to strip them of
their identity, their dignity, their humanity and ultimately their lives.

This extreme example happens every day in smaller, more benign ways. We use
language to alienate the “other” in our midst. We mock those who hold alien
political views (liberal or conservative). We notice differences in skin color, in
dialect, in economic status, and we form communities of like-minded people who
look and talk and act like us.

We not only cut people off, we are cut off ourselves. We are left out of groups
because we don’t have enough money, we don’t look right, we don’t have the right
job, we’re the wrong race, we do or don’t have children, we are the enemy. At
some point in our lives, we have and will know the ache of being outside the
camp.

When Paul writes to the people of Colossae, he is writing people outside the
covenant. They were Gentiles and not part of the covenant community of Israel.
In this sense, they were alienated from God and God’s people.

This gets us closer to the heart of the matter. Alienation is not simply a social
problem, it is rooted in our estrangement from God, resulting in estrangement
from other people and even the world around us. While Israel is the covenant
community that receives the revelation of God’s law and God’s purposes, they still
experience this estrangement.

In his letter to the Romans, Paul reveals how both the Jew and the Gentile ended
up being alienated from God. The Gentiles worshipped created things rather than
the Creator and became corrupted. The Jewish people violated Torah and fell
under the death sentence of Torah. Both peoples suffered in their exile from rest
in the communion of God’s love.

Isaiah captures the intensity of the exile when he appears before God in the
Temple. He cries out, “I am coming undone.” His physical body cannot bear the
weight of glory and is ripping apart in the presence of YHWH’s Absolute
Otherness.

If we go back to the beginning of the story, we see the root of alienation. Adam
and Eve turn against one another immediately after rebelling against God. Their
self-imposed alienation traps them in an alien land. They hide in terror from the
loving Father who created them.

Adam who was called to govern the earth, the skies above and sea beneath
experiences deep alienation from creation:

“...cursed is the ground because of you;

in pain you shall eat of it all the days of your life;

thorns and thistles it shall bring forth for you;

and you shall eat the plants of the field.

By the sweat of your face

you shall eat bread,

till you return to the ground,

for out of it you were taken;

for you are dust,

and to dust you shall return.” (Genesis 3:17-19)

In his estrangement, man stands at odds with the very planet upon which he
lives. Instead of caring for the plants and animals, he often brings harm and
destruction to them.

This estrangement breaks the natural bond between siblings. Cain kills his own
brother and then must go “on the run” in his alienation resulting from the crime.
From one generation to the next, the separation and brokenness continues and is
often magnified. We continue to war and strive with our brother and sister
humans and nations.

When Paul addresses the ancient Colossians, he is addressing us. By the power of
God’s Spirit, Paul’s word about “alienation from God, hostile in mind and deeds”
resonates in our own hearts. We have known this sense of being cut-off. We have
known the anguish of self-imposed exile, of self pity, of self destruction, of self
hatred.

Sara Groves sings a heart wrenching song about our selfish tendency to hurt and
isolate one another. Expressing the suddenness and absurdity of offense, she
sings,

“weather came and caught us off our guard

we were just laughing and feelin' alright

had such a great time just last night

we walked into a minefield undetected

you took a tone and I took offense

anger replacing all common sense”

Then like a showdown in some wild west film, she sings about the duel to the
death between two lovers,

“oh run for you life

all tenderness is gone

in the blink of an eye

all good will has withdrawn

and we mark out our paces and

stare out from our faces

but baby you and I are gone gone gone”

In his fatherly compassion, Paul writes a people who have lived under the
crushing pain of alienation. He reminds of the Father who is fully revealed in
Jesus Christ when he enters into the absolute pain of this alien world. The Son
enters into the human world and in the mystery of His love, he bears our pain in
his own body.

Through the death of his body in the suffering of the cross, he steps into and
beyond all human separation. In the love between Father and Son, he rises again
bringing our once alien humanity into the unspeakable glory of unending love
between the Father, the Son and the Spirit.

Paul writes that our hope is hid with Christ in God, and at at the same time, he
says that God chose to “make known how great among the Gentiles are the riches
of the glory of this mystery, which is Christ in you, the hope of glory.” By His life,
His body, His action, His lovingkindness, His suffering, we are no longer aliens.
He has brought us who were outside His love into the unending circle of His love.
At the same time, He enters into us by the power of His Spirit, so that even as we
dwell in Him, He dwells in us.
Overcome by this ungraspable love that has grasped us, we fall down in praise
and glorify the One who is worthy of all praise and glory and honor and wealth
and wisdom.

The next time we feel the cool blast of isolation from friends and family and the
world around us, instead of falling under the self consuming power of alienation,
we might return to Colossae and remind ourselves of this love that we cannot
grasp.

From this place of peace, from the place of absolute rest and protection and love,
we come to realize that we are not aliens. We are at home. We are safe. We are
free to embrace the outsiders among us. We are free to suffer alongside them. We
are free to lay down our lives as we follow the gentle call of His ever-loving Spirit.